I constantly say this, but I will never be able to truly convey what I mean when I say - I have amazing friends. A lot of times I feel like I don't deserve the people who are in my life. My close friends always blow my mind, people I haven't known for so long feel like soulmates, and even acquaintances are an insane blessing.
Now about my last post. I think a lot about death. I am captivated by it. I often wonder what will happen when I die, I often wonder when I will die. Looking back on my life, there have been numerous incidents where I could have died easily. Driving back to MI a year and two months ago, I almost merged into the only other car in a 5 mile radius. About 7 or 8 years ago, I was on a cruise in Alaska...and I felt the urge to jump off the back of the ship. I didn't do it, and I didn't have anything going on in my life that would have caused me to think that way...but I felt the urge nevertheless.
I've always loved the poet John Donne. His life, his faith, his poetry are all inspirations to me. But he also had a fascination with death. He had a portrait taken of him in his late life, and he wore a funeral shroud for it. His Holy Sonnet X is something I want read at my funeral. "Death, be not proud. Though some have called thee mighty and dreadful...thou art not so."
Death is a part of life. I have lost all my grandparents at this point. Going on about 5 or 6 years of having no grandparents. And that is really only hitting me now, in these past few months. When they died, I didn't feel any special sense of loss...I wasn't particularly close with them due to some extenuating circumstances. But now, it hurts me that I wasn't close with them. I wish I could just pick up the phone and call my Papa John. Or go over to his house for Sunday night burgers. Or listen to Grandma Nell play the piano.
I wish I had known Paige better before she died. I wish she hadn't died. I wish I could have spent another day with her.
But what all this death has taught me is that I don't want to look back on my life in regret. I don't want to see someone die and think, "I wish I had known them better". I want to be able to say, "You better fucking believe this kid was a riot, and we had some good fucking times."
I don't know when I am going to die. I have to assume that the angel looking over me is going to slip up one day (I am kind of a handle and often get in sticky situations) and my providence will run out. But Death doesn't scare me half as much as living a long life and at the end of that life looking back and thinking, "Wow, I didn't really live my life...I just got by. I was a mediocre friend and didn't truly connect with those around me."
I read a Heine poem...sadly I don't have it in front of me, but the premise is this - Heine is talking about death, and he would regret dying without creating one truly good poem. If he creates that one poem, he can die fulfilled.
Replace [poem] with anything. For me, all I really want is to be a good friend. If I am a good friend, then I won't regret anything when I die. Yes, I have goals in my life...but loving the people around me is something I want to put at the top of the list.
Finally, to sum it up, I'll do what I do best - reference a band. Rosetta's first album "The Galilean Satellites" is a concept album (literally) about a man who yearns for peace so he travels to the distant moon of Europa. He arrives there, in solitude...but he realizes that he has left behind everything important to him, and all those things than made him annoyed/angry/frustrated with life didn't really matter. He tries to get back, but he dies on the way, his orbit gone wrong. (Metaphorically) the album is about running away from those around you. It is about trying to achieve harmony in solitude. But the joke/truth is that there is only harmony in the chaos around you, and the things truly worthwhile in life aren't found in solitude.
This borrowed time is over now
I miss them all,
the halves of me.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
We have but Faith (an extra long post)
I was having a good night, and I still am...but something changed.
Here is the situation - I was hanging out with my roommate after spending my day spent with a good friend. My housemate and I were getting stoked about SpringBreak, and then he went to bed.
I was still hopped up, excited about life, the future, and everything. And I went to change my profile picture, and I changed it to an old picture of me. And I went to read what people had written (if anything) about that picture...and I almost cried when I read this
you're one smashing son of a bitch.
meaning: i'm happy we're married.
facebook declares it!
She's dead now. Killed by a drunk driver. Killed the day she came back to the Fox Cities from her new home in North Carolina. She was just going back to visit for a weekend or so. She hadn't even been in town for 24 hours. And then a drunk driver took her life, her life and her friends' lives.
And I'll never see her again. So why am I still having a good night?
In a fucked up way, I was thinking earlier today about the death of someone close to you. And I thought, "What if my brother died?" I'd be broken up beyond belief. I would cry, I would rage. I would sink deeper into alcohol than I ever have before. I would shut everything out and become a hollow, empty person.
I would do all that...if I believed that people didn't care about me. I would do all that if I had no regard for the person that passed away.
As it is, if someone close to me dies, I will never indulge in any of that because I will say something at their funeral and I will say this:
"I am going to read the prologue from Alfred Tennyson's 'In Memoriam'. Tennyson wrote this poem over the course of 16 years after the death of his closest friend. This prologue was the last section of the part of the poem to be written. For most of the poem, Tennyson feels how I am feeling right now - he is lost, confused, angry, and bitter about the loss of his friend. He doubts, he curses, he falters in his faith. But eventually, after 16 years, he comes to this conclusion, and I hope to be able to arrive at this conclusion someday. I am sad, bitter, angry, and confused about the death of (this loved one), and I don't pretend to be anywhere near okay with what has happened. But I know one day I will reach this level of understanding. And I know one day this will all make sense. And I want to reach that day as clear and level-headed as I can, and for that reason, I won't be drowning my sorrows in alcohol or any other substance.
Tennyson's Prologue to "In Memoriam"
* * *
Strong Son of God, immortal Love,
Whom we, that have not seen thy face,
By faith, and faith alone, embrace,
Believing where we cannot prove;
Thine are these orbs of light and shade;
Thou madest Life in man and brute;
Thou madest Death; and lo, thy foot
Is on the skull which thou hast made.
Thou wilt not leave us in the dust:
Thou madest man, he knows not why,
He thinks he was not made to die;
And thou hast made him: thou art just.
Our little systems have their day;
They have their day and cease to be:
They are but broken lights of thee,
And thou, O Lord, art more than they.
We have but faith: we cannot know;
For knowledge is of things we see;
And yet we trust it comes from thee,
A beam in darkness: let it grow.
Let knowledge grow from more to more,
But more of reverence in us dwell;
That mind and soul, according well,
May make one music as before,
But vaster. We are fools and slight;
We mock thee when we do not fear:
But help thy foolish ones to bear;
Help thy vain worlds to bear thy light.
Forgive what seem'd my sin in me;
What seem'd my worth since I began;
For merit lives from man to man,
And not from man, O Lord, to thee.
Forgive my grief for one removed,
Thy creature, whom I found so fair.
I trust he lives in thee, and there
I find him worthier to be loved.
Forgive these wild and wandering cries,
Confusions of a wasted youth;
Forgive them where they fail in truth,
And in thy wisdom make me wise.
* * *
I am a neverending fuckup. But this isn't about me. This is about a girl who was killed due to a series of...
...of what? (I wanted to write 'coincidences', but I couldn't)
Was it the "will of God"? Did all her life lead up to that moment? Was it an act of Chaos? Did she somehow choose the fate for herself? Was it just random shit?
She had such plans. She wanted to work with retired elderly people, in a nursing home. She loved old people. She worked hard.
And yes, yes I am glossing over her faults and shortcomings. But goddamn it, she is dead and gone, the very least I can do is not dredge up slightly inconvenient things.
But back to the question at hand...
"Why am I still having a good night?"
Its for the simple reason - in the back of my soul, in my heart; I don't feel a burden anymore. A part of my wants to feel guilt about this, to turn myself into the martyr. But I can't. All I feel at this point is a peace.
I felt this peace in another place.
I was in Auschwitz/Birkenau. I was walking through the rain, by myself, in between the rows of "houses" (shacks) where they kept the prisoners. I started crying. I felt the guilt of a generation weighing down on me. The sins of the past taking over me. I was crushed with the weight of this burden, the death of so many heaped upon me.
Until I felt the hand of a child take my hand. He pulled at me softly, enough to turn me 180 degrees. Turn me back to the direction where I knew all my friends were. I was standing in the rain, in a Deathcamp, alone, and I still felt all the deadeyes of the departed staring at me, but what I heard from this child-guide/spirit changed everything.
Four words.
"It's not your fault"
And I walked back to meet my group, wiping tears from my eyes. And I knew...it wasn't my fault. I wanted to feel guilt for all those dead, but it wasn't my fault. They don't need people feeling guilty over them. They need people who respect them. Period.
The same with her. It wasn't my fault. It wasn't my fault, but she is gone. And that hurts a lot...but there isn't anything I can do...except live my life. Would she (or anybody) want me wallowing around in (self) pity? Crying, drinking, punching holes in walls? Nothing is accomplished through that!!!
So, if someone close to me dies and I start feeling depressed - depressed in a way that I think that drowning myself in alcohol will solve my problems...I think I'll just head on down to the local soup kitchen to volunteer. If I help others, I'll be helping God, and God helps me.
(and I don't think I've ever told anyone ever about what I felt at Auschwitz. Not like that. But I had to get it down into writing eventually. Everything I wrote is a true experience I had. If you don't believe it...go to Auschwitz/Birkenau yourself. Go there, come back, and then look me in the eye and tell me to my face that you can't feel the presence of the Dead/ghosts/spirits/Angels in that place. They exist. And they linger on, not out of spite or malice or hatred...but out of sorrow and regret. Out of a need to let people know that they were there. That It happened. That they live on. They live on in our memories.)
[That last sentence destroyed my ability to write on. I had more to write about that, but it is gone now. Read that last sentence in the parenthesis, and nothing else, and maybe, just maybe, you'll find out why we grieve and feel agony]
Here is the situation - I was hanging out with my roommate after spending my day spent with a good friend. My housemate and I were getting stoked about SpringBreak, and then he went to bed.
I was still hopped up, excited about life, the future, and everything. And I went to change my profile picture, and I changed it to an old picture of me. And I went to read what people had written (if anything) about that picture...and I almost cried when I read this
you're one smashing son of a bitch.
meaning: i'm happy we're married.
facebook declares it!
She's dead now. Killed by a drunk driver. Killed the day she came back to the Fox Cities from her new home in North Carolina. She was just going back to visit for a weekend or so. She hadn't even been in town for 24 hours. And then a drunk driver took her life, her life and her friends' lives.
And I'll never see her again. So why am I still having a good night?
In a fucked up way, I was thinking earlier today about the death of someone close to you. And I thought, "What if my brother died?" I'd be broken up beyond belief. I would cry, I would rage. I would sink deeper into alcohol than I ever have before. I would shut everything out and become a hollow, empty person.
I would do all that...if I believed that people didn't care about me. I would do all that if I had no regard for the person that passed away.
As it is, if someone close to me dies, I will never indulge in any of that because I will say something at their funeral and I will say this:
"I am going to read the prologue from Alfred Tennyson's 'In Memoriam'. Tennyson wrote this poem over the course of 16 years after the death of his closest friend. This prologue was the last section of the part of the poem to be written. For most of the poem, Tennyson feels how I am feeling right now - he is lost, confused, angry, and bitter about the loss of his friend. He doubts, he curses, he falters in his faith. But eventually, after 16 years, he comes to this conclusion, and I hope to be able to arrive at this conclusion someday. I am sad, bitter, angry, and confused about the death of (this loved one), and I don't pretend to be anywhere near okay with what has happened. But I know one day I will reach this level of understanding. And I know one day this will all make sense. And I want to reach that day as clear and level-headed as I can, and for that reason, I won't be drowning my sorrows in alcohol or any other substance.
Tennyson's Prologue to "In Memoriam"
* * *
Strong Son of God, immortal Love,
Whom we, that have not seen thy face,
By faith, and faith alone, embrace,
Believing where we cannot prove;
Thine are these orbs of light and shade;
Thou madest Life in man and brute;
Thou madest Death; and lo, thy foot
Is on the skull which thou hast made.
Thou wilt not leave us in the dust:
Thou madest man, he knows not why,
He thinks he was not made to die;
And thou hast made him: thou art just.
Our little systems have their day;
They have their day and cease to be:
They are but broken lights of thee,
And thou, O Lord, art more than they.
We have but faith: we cannot know;
For knowledge is of things we see;
And yet we trust it comes from thee,
A beam in darkness: let it grow.
Let knowledge grow from more to more,
But more of reverence in us dwell;
That mind and soul, according well,
May make one music as before,
But vaster. We are fools and slight;
We mock thee when we do not fear:
But help thy foolish ones to bear;
Help thy vain worlds to bear thy light.
Forgive what seem'd my sin in me;
What seem'd my worth since I began;
For merit lives from man to man,
And not from man, O Lord, to thee.
Forgive my grief for one removed,
Thy creature, whom I found so fair.
I trust he lives in thee, and there
I find him worthier to be loved.
Forgive these wild and wandering cries,
Confusions of a wasted youth;
Forgive them where they fail in truth,
And in thy wisdom make me wise.
* * *
I am a neverending fuckup. But this isn't about me. This is about a girl who was killed due to a series of...
...of what? (I wanted to write 'coincidences', but I couldn't)
Was it the "will of God"? Did all her life lead up to that moment? Was it an act of Chaos? Did she somehow choose the fate for herself? Was it just random shit?
She had such plans. She wanted to work with retired elderly people, in a nursing home. She loved old people. She worked hard.
And yes, yes I am glossing over her faults and shortcomings. But goddamn it, she is dead and gone, the very least I can do is not dredge up slightly inconvenient things.
But back to the question at hand...
"Why am I still having a good night?"
Its for the simple reason - in the back of my soul, in my heart; I don't feel a burden anymore. A part of my wants to feel guilt about this, to turn myself into the martyr. But I can't. All I feel at this point is a peace.
I felt this peace in another place.
I was in Auschwitz/Birkenau. I was walking through the rain, by myself, in between the rows of "houses" (shacks) where they kept the prisoners. I started crying. I felt the guilt of a generation weighing down on me. The sins of the past taking over me. I was crushed with the weight of this burden, the death of so many heaped upon me.
Until I felt the hand of a child take my hand. He pulled at me softly, enough to turn me 180 degrees. Turn me back to the direction where I knew all my friends were. I was standing in the rain, in a Deathcamp, alone, and I still felt all the deadeyes of the departed staring at me, but what I heard from this child-guide/spirit changed everything.
Four words.
"It's not your fault"
And I walked back to meet my group, wiping tears from my eyes. And I knew...it wasn't my fault. I wanted to feel guilt for all those dead, but it wasn't my fault. They don't need people feeling guilty over them. They need people who respect them. Period.
The same with her. It wasn't my fault. It wasn't my fault, but she is gone. And that hurts a lot...but there isn't anything I can do...except live my life. Would she (or anybody) want me wallowing around in (self) pity? Crying, drinking, punching holes in walls? Nothing is accomplished through that!!!
So, if someone close to me dies and I start feeling depressed - depressed in a way that I think that drowning myself in alcohol will solve my problems...I think I'll just head on down to the local soup kitchen to volunteer. If I help others, I'll be helping God, and God helps me.
(and I don't think I've ever told anyone ever about what I felt at Auschwitz. Not like that. But I had to get it down into writing eventually. Everything I wrote is a true experience I had. If you don't believe it...go to Auschwitz/Birkenau yourself. Go there, come back, and then look me in the eye and tell me to my face that you can't feel the presence of the Dead/ghosts/spirits/Angels in that place. They exist. And they linger on, not out of spite or malice or hatred...but out of sorrow and regret. Out of a need to let people know that they were there. That It happened. That they live on. They live on in our memories.)
[That last sentence destroyed my ability to write on. I had more to write about that, but it is gone now. Read that last sentence in the parenthesis, and nothing else, and maybe, just maybe, you'll find out why we grieve and feel agony]
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Tonight
Two quick lyrics
When I'm desperate and alone
I know how low I'd go
* * *
Did we seem much happier in those days?
They both mean so much to me.
When I'm desperate and alone
I know how low I'd go
* * *
Did we seem much happier in those days?
They both mean so much to me.
Role Reversal
Ahh....living like the other side does. Normally, it is always my housemates who do the driving on the weekends, and I am the one getting a bit rowdy and out of control/fantastic.
Tonight, though, due to some circumstances outside my control, I ended up being the driver to a party which was of dubious potential. My housemate and I, driving towards a party where we may or may not have a good time. It was awkward at first, and then he got some drinks in him and had a great time. Me, I sipped a beer or two but maintained my calm and I had an...okay time.
It mostly just drove home how awkward I am in social situations without a few drinks in me. I was the Outsider this time.
But he needed it more than me. It's time I gave back a little.
Tonight, though, due to some circumstances outside my control, I ended up being the driver to a party which was of dubious potential. My housemate and I, driving towards a party where we may or may not have a good time. It was awkward at first, and then he got some drinks in him and had a great time. Me, I sipped a beer or two but maintained my calm and I had an...okay time.
It mostly just drove home how awkward I am in social situations without a few drinks in me. I was the Outsider this time.
But he needed it more than me. It's time I gave back a little.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Familiar Faces
Its funny just how big a difference 4 years can make. Looking at pictures of some of my closest friends from high school...they all look so different now. As if they are different people. How much have we all changed?
Monday, February 22, 2010
Apathyvalley
I feel like I've been in a rut as of recently. Nothing excites me the way it should. College is about to end...but I don't really feel anything about that. My classes are all interesting...but I just don't have the heart to put any effort into them. I'm watching the bottles pile up and my facial hair grow out. I feel like all I need is just an short hibernation, a period to just shut down completely. Then I could emerge and go on.
And now I feel like I'm just whining. And I hate whining.
So I'll sit here sipping an Amaretto-coke, listening to Anathema, and trying to read some books that I don't really care about.
And now I feel like I'm just whining. And I hate whining.
So I'll sit here sipping an Amaretto-coke, listening to Anathema, and trying to read some books that I don't really care about.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Life cycles
I was think the other day just how funny it is just how much life repeats itself. A year and two days ago, my friend was diagnosed with cancer. A year and one day ago, she was having surgery and had a 10 pound tumor removed.
A year ago and a day ago, we here at the Sojourners' (our house name) were hosting a party. It was a blowout. A double 21st. I was making drinks for a bunch of people I didn't know, all the while trying to remain coherent enough to get up at 6.30am to go to the hospital and have church with my friend.
This year; its been one year since my friend was diagnosed with cancer, and she is doing fine now. She kicked cancer in the balls and gave it the middle finger (could we expect anything else from her?). And we hosted our first real party here...our first real party in 1 year. Only this time she was able to come.
So here I am, 8.47am, sitting in bed with a raging headache....trying not to imagine what our upstairs looks like right now, but smiling at the same time. Because my friend beat cancer. And we toasted that (i think....its all a bit hazy) last night.
a year ago I was in a bad mood because I wasn't sure if my friend would live, and if she did live, how much pain she would endure. this year, I was in a bad mood because I don't know if I have a job for the summer. And thinking about it comparatively, I'm having a damn good year.
And that's all I wanted to say.
A year ago and a day ago, we here at the Sojourners' (our house name) were hosting a party. It was a blowout. A double 21st. I was making drinks for a bunch of people I didn't know, all the while trying to remain coherent enough to get up at 6.30am to go to the hospital and have church with my friend.
This year; its been one year since my friend was diagnosed with cancer, and she is doing fine now. She kicked cancer in the balls and gave it the middle finger (could we expect anything else from her?). And we hosted our first real party here...our first real party in 1 year. Only this time she was able to come.
So here I am, 8.47am, sitting in bed with a raging headache....trying not to imagine what our upstairs looks like right now, but smiling at the same time. Because my friend beat cancer. And we toasted that (i think....its all a bit hazy) last night.
a year ago I was in a bad mood because I wasn't sure if my friend would live, and if she did live, how much pain she would endure. this year, I was in a bad mood because I don't know if I have a job for the summer. And thinking about it comparatively, I'm having a damn good year.
And that's all I wanted to say.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
High School dreaming
I just woke up from a dream about high school, after a rather restless night of sleep. The narrative is a bit disjointed, but I remember finding a bunch of old HS notebooks in my room after talking about how I had carried on a make-out relationship with the totally hot Spanish teacher with a buddy. He said that she still asks him about me whenever they see each other. Anyway, I was flipping through all my notebooks, and they were all filled with words that were barely legible, and went in all directions.
For some reason I went back to my high school, saw the Spanish teacher (no makeouts ensued), and then I was all of the sudden stuck in some 4 hour long night class with a bunch of other people. And I was freaking out because I had just graduated college and didn't want to go back to HS. Finally, I got out of the class, and was all pumped to go home, but I had to take the train.
I was with some friends and it looked like there was no line to get to the train, so we walked through the row of metal fences and got to the front, but then the woman told us that we had to use the other side. We started running for the other side, but a mob of people arrived and took up all the space on the train.
We were going to have to wait another 45 minutes for another train, and then it would be a 45 minute ride back to town. And it was probably 10:30 right now, and we had to go to another one of these HS classes in the morning.
I was freaking out, but the train finally came. Either that or my sister drove us. Potentially both things happened. While on the train, I got a text from my friend Catherine saying that she (who was now 21) was at a bar called Michigan Chevs, and I was so sad I couldn't go.
And then our train broke down, and after a period of waiting around for a replacement train, I decided that I would just run, even though we had broken down in Fon Du Lac (which is a 40 minute drive to my hometown). I take off running just as they send a replacement bus, and for a second I thought about hopping on the bus, but I realized traffic was terrible so I would rather keep moving and race the bus.
I was doing pretty well, but I kept getting blocked by cars and other buses. But I did see that Less Than Jake was playing in Fondy at some point. And just as I thought I had made it to the highway...I found myself back at the waiting area. I let out a frustrated cry...and then my alarm went off.
Also, at some point, some crusty old man told me to go drink a whiskey sour.
For some reason I went back to my high school, saw the Spanish teacher (no makeouts ensued), and then I was all of the sudden stuck in some 4 hour long night class with a bunch of other people. And I was freaking out because I had just graduated college and didn't want to go back to HS. Finally, I got out of the class, and was all pumped to go home, but I had to take the train.
I was with some friends and it looked like there was no line to get to the train, so we walked through the row of metal fences and got to the front, but then the woman told us that we had to use the other side. We started running for the other side, but a mob of people arrived and took up all the space on the train.
We were going to have to wait another 45 minutes for another train, and then it would be a 45 minute ride back to town. And it was probably 10:30 right now, and we had to go to another one of these HS classes in the morning.
I was freaking out, but the train finally came. Either that or my sister drove us. Potentially both things happened. While on the train, I got a text from my friend Catherine saying that she (who was now 21) was at a bar called Michigan Chevs, and I was so sad I couldn't go.
And then our train broke down, and after a period of waiting around for a replacement train, I decided that I would just run, even though we had broken down in Fon Du Lac (which is a 40 minute drive to my hometown). I take off running just as they send a replacement bus, and for a second I thought about hopping on the bus, but I realized traffic was terrible so I would rather keep moving and race the bus.
I was doing pretty well, but I kept getting blocked by cars and other buses. But I did see that Less Than Jake was playing in Fondy at some point. And just as I thought I had made it to the highway...I found myself back at the waiting area. I let out a frustrated cry...and then my alarm went off.
Also, at some point, some crusty old man told me to go drink a whiskey sour.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Fuck (redux)
Do I still love you?
Or do I love who you were?
Were you ever good for me?
Or was it all just self-dillusion?
I'm washing it down (watch me fall)
I'm better now (not behind the eyes)
Or do I love who you were?
Were you ever good for me?
Or was it all just self-dillusion?
I'm washing it down (watch me fall)
I'm better now (not behind the eyes)
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Let me tell you the score
Life isn't like a Metro Station music video
It's more like Less Than Jake at their darkest.
I'm pretty sure LTJ is the band that lyrically encapsulates my life. Virtually every song has me as the main character.
Here's the one I thought of today
"Golden Age of My Negative Ways"
Sit back and watch the train wreck
Watch me jump off the deep end
I won't lie, my mistakes take up every minute of my life
It's been the downfall of me
that misery just loves my company
And this voice is scared to say that I don't really mind.
Cause it's the golden age of my negative ways
I wouldn't want it any other way today
I wouldn't want it any other way.
I'm just a codependent
unemployed and unimportant
I wont lie, my missteps confuse everyone in my life
I don't have an answer
of why I'm why I'm always moving backwards
And this voice is scared to say I don't really mind
And I always walk the line
between lows and highest highs
and I don't mind.
Cause it's the golden age of my negative ways
I wouldn't want it any other way today
I wouldn't want it any other way.
It's more like Less Than Jake at their darkest.
I'm pretty sure LTJ is the band that lyrically encapsulates my life. Virtually every song has me as the main character.
Here's the one I thought of today
"Golden Age of My Negative Ways"
Sit back and watch the train wreck
Watch me jump off the deep end
I won't lie, my mistakes take up every minute of my life
It's been the downfall of me
that misery just loves my company
And this voice is scared to say that I don't really mind.
Cause it's the golden age of my negative ways
I wouldn't want it any other way today
I wouldn't want it any other way.
I'm just a codependent
unemployed and unimportant
I wont lie, my missteps confuse everyone in my life
I don't have an answer
of why I'm why I'm always moving backwards
And this voice is scared to say I don't really mind
And I always walk the line
between lows and highest highs
and I don't mind.
Cause it's the golden age of my negative ways
I wouldn't want it any other way today
I wouldn't want it any other way.
Bucket list
There are certain things in life that everybody wants to happen at least once. Last night, I can finally say that I achieved one.
Last night I got kicked out of the Intersection for being too fantastic (read - "drunk"). I've always wanted to be 86'd from a place, and last night that happened.
Thank you Sweet Tea Vodka (terrible stuff) for making this happen.
Last night I got kicked out of the Intersection for being too fantastic (read - "drunk"). I've always wanted to be 86'd from a place, and last night that happened.
Thank you Sweet Tea Vodka (terrible stuff) for making this happen.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Universe...you've done it again
After a real shitty Thursday, this Friday has been one of the best days on record. Woke up, decided to skip all my classes, was about to go get some coffee when Kev showed up and asked if I wanted company. Hell yes I did, so we headed downtown, grabbed some Pitawraps. Napped for a bit, went to work and was real squirrely with my managers, wasn't needed for NC, so I went home early (but still got 11hours for the week).
I had settled down for the night, exhausted, resigned to stay inside and watch Transporter 2...when Kev bursts into my room and says, "Liz won tickets to a DJ/dance party at The Intersection. We're going. By the way, that's not a question, I already bought you a ticket. You're not driving so feel free to get cash drunk."
Fuck yes my life.
I had settled down for the night, exhausted, resigned to stay inside and watch Transporter 2...when Kev bursts into my room and says, "Liz won tickets to a DJ/dance party at The Intersection. We're going. By the way, that's not a question, I already bought you a ticket. You're not driving so feel free to get cash drunk."
Fuck yes my life.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Fuck
FUCKFUCKFUCK!!!
I'm gonna get first fucking place for the worst fucking attitude
and I don't give a fuck at all.
Oh no!
I don't feel so old. I'm smiling again.
If you don't feel sorrow, then I've already failed.
Sunlight shining through my window,
lets me know that I'm still alive
But why did I ever let you inside my heart? I'm such a fool.
I'm gonna get first fucking place for the worst fucking attitude
and I don't give a fuck at all.
Oh no!
I don't feel so old. I'm smiling again.
If you don't feel sorrow, then I've already failed.
Sunlight shining through my window,
lets me know that I'm still alive
But why did I ever let you inside my heart? I'm such a fool.
(insert title)
Working out is amazing. I went biking for 45ish minutes today. Talked with a friend the entire time. Now I just feel content and at peace. Hooray endorphins!
Picked up a flier today about volunteering to help the Roma in Hungary. Something I am definitely going to at least check out. We'll see if anything comes of that.
Maybe it is all the endorphins, but I feel calmer about following up on this and trying to get the ball rolling on this than I do about teaching in Korea.
I believe in the life that we seek.
It can far outweigh the risks we take.
I think that's about it.
Picked up a flier today about volunteering to help the Roma in Hungary. Something I am definitely going to at least check out. We'll see if anything comes of that.
Maybe it is all the endorphins, but I feel calmer about following up on this and trying to get the ball rolling on this than I do about teaching in Korea.
I believe in the life that we seek.
It can far outweigh the risks we take.
I think that's about it.
Ruined songs
I was talking with a friend tonight, and the subject of music came up. And I remarked just how funny/sad it was that I turn to certain bands when I am in a certain mood, or that certain songs remind me of a specific person. And then he went out on a limb and said, "I bet there are certain songs you don't listen to anymore, right?"
He was right.
But I told him, "I'm going to go home and listen to that song."
And that's what I'm doing now. And though it still reminds me of her, there is something more there. Some parts of the song speak of infinite loneliness, some parts speak of eternal hope. Guess what part I trytrytry to focus on.
Oh it won't rain all the time.
The sky won't fall forever.
And though the night seems long,
your tears won't fall forever.
"It Can't Rain All the Time" - Jane Siberry
He was right.
But I told him, "I'm going to go home and listen to that song."
And that's what I'm doing now. And though it still reminds me of her, there is something more there. Some parts of the song speak of infinite loneliness, some parts speak of eternal hope. Guess what part I trytrytry to focus on.
Oh it won't rain all the time.
The sky won't fall forever.
And though the night seems long,
your tears won't fall forever.
"It Can't Rain All the Time" - Jane Siberry
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
experiences
1 years and a month ago, I took a trip with my friend J. And on this trip, I happened to write some things. Scattered, discordant things. And from time to time, I look back on what I wrote, and I try to remember exactly what I was thinking when I wrote it. There are references to moments of time that were only experienced during that trip. More than just moments in time, there are trains of through referenced. Trains of thoughts that existed for a minute...maybe more, and are gone, and are never coming back.
A fragment
She turned the Key
And the spell was broken
But the darkness continues
Or
We are removed
From the room
From the world
His voice is the background noise
(A reference)
Stuck on repeat
He thought it was the music
It was a reference to life
(Non Canon)
The never ending way he talks
And on-and on
A fragment
She turned the Key
And the spell was broken
But the darkness continues
Or
We are removed
From the room
From the world
His voice is the background noise
(A reference)
Stuck on repeat
He thought it was the music
It was a reference to life
(Non Canon)
The never ending way he talks
And on-and on
addendum
My professor told a story today in class that relates quite well to my last post.
At the end of her life, my professor's mother (aged 100) could barely speak. She was on her deathbed, and she no doubt knew it. But whenever someone would come and take her hand, she would say one of two things.
"Thank you"
or
"I love you"
Two statements of hard won simplicity.
At the end of her life, my professor's mother (aged 100) could barely speak. She was on her deathbed, and she no doubt knew it. But whenever someone would come and take her hand, she would say one of two things.
"Thank you"
or
"I love you"
Two statements of hard won simplicity.
Endings
I've been thinking a lot about endings recently. It is my last semester of college. Soon, this thing called Academia will be ending in my life. With college ending, there comes the very real possibility that certain friendships will end. At the very least be changing radically. And so on...
And as this ending draws closer and closer, I am reminded of a video I once saw. One of my favorite bands broke up several years ago and filmed a DVD of their final concert. When it came time for the final song, it was obvious that the singer was so full of emotion, but those emotions could not be put into words. So he said the only thing he could, the only thing that mattered.
"Thank You."
And so, while my life will soon be drastically changing, I hope that I can thank everyone for how much these past 4 years have meant, and how everyone has helped me grow.
"End of the Road" - Sentenced
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CZMZYvlyw4E
And as this ending draws closer and closer, I am reminded of a video I once saw. One of my favorite bands broke up several years ago and filmed a DVD of their final concert. When it came time for the final song, it was obvious that the singer was so full of emotion, but those emotions could not be put into words. So he said the only thing he could, the only thing that mattered.
"Thank You."
And so, while my life will soon be drastically changing, I hope that I can thank everyone for how much these past 4 years have meant, and how everyone has helped me grow.
"End of the Road" - Sentenced
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CZMZYvlyw4E
Sunday, February 7, 2010
(self)Image
I saw a picture of myself
From a year ago.
I didn't recognize who I was.
(This steady decline is much sharper than I thought it was)
From a year ago.
I didn't recognize who I was.
(This steady decline is much sharper than I thought it was)
Saturday, February 6, 2010
mewithoutYou
You don't know where you came from, you don't know where you're going.
You think you're you, but you don't know who you are, you're not you...
you're Everyone Else.
You think you're you, but you don't know who you are, you're not you...
you're Everyone Else.
Monday, February 1, 2010
One in 10
I love you.
And that is all.
(that is all that ever needs to be said)
(iloveyou)
No matter the context.
Friendloverspousesignificantother.
Love.
love
love
And that is all.
(that is all that ever needs to be said)
(iloveyou)
No matter the context.
Friendloverspousesignificantother.
Love.
love
love
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